


What lasts forever can't be rushed

by daisydoctor13



Category: Berena - Fandom, Holby City
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Mutual Pining, Random scenes, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-11-02 00:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10933020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisydoctor13/pseuds/daisydoctor13
Summary: Serena and Bernie had met five times before they became colleagues at Holby City Hospital, but sometimes it's not the right time to meet properly.





	1. The Mysterious Coffee Drinker

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw a post about [femslash scenarios](https://daisydoctor13.tumblr.com/post/160578635079/i-need-more-femslash-aus%22) on tumblr and was going to do a few one shots, but then this idea popped into my head. 
> 
> I've basically adapted 5 of these into scenarios where Serena and Bernie have met, but not really properly 'met'
> 
> Canon compliant - the last chapter will be my interpretation of their thoughts in their first scene together based on this fic, so everything up until then still happens.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_1987_

Bernie checked her watch for about the 10th time in an hour, groaning. The minute hand seemed to be moving slower the closer it got to the end of her shift. It was almost 10pm on a Friday, she had spent the morning in a deadly boring anatomy session, being taught the muscles of the forearm, then started on a 6-hour shift.

No one was in the canteen at this time, any normal student would be relaxing ready for the weekend. Bernie had cleaned all the tables and was sweeping the floor, muttering to herself as she went along. _Anterior compartment performs flexion and pronation. Superficial muscles: flexor carpi ulnaris, palmaris longus, flexor carpi radialis, pronator teres. Intermediate…_

She was disturbed by the door opening and closing. _Who the hell comes in five minutes before closing?!_ She was annoyed, this meant she’d have to stay late clearing up and all she wanted was to be curled up in bed.

Propping the broom against the wall, she plastered her best ‘customer smile’ on and turned to greet them. _Wow she is gorgeous_ Bernie thought, before mentally checking herself. Evidently a student, judging by the huge rucksack and wild eyes that most people on campus had, considering assignment and dissertation deadlines were less than two weeks away. She was dressed in a denim mid-length dress with a long zip down the front, currently done up to the neck. Bernie’s breath hitched slightly, trying to suppress her attraction. Long, brunette curls cascaded past her shoulders and elegant painted nails were bright against the cover of the textbook she was clutching.

“Sorry, I know you’re closing soon but could I have a black coffee to take away please?”

“Sure, would you like any food with that?” Bernie’s smile had become genuine, as she made her way behind the counter.

“No thanks, strong and hot coffee is all I care about at the minute,” she started to reach around to get her purse, and lost control of the textbook, which fell to the floor with a thud, scattering pages of hand written notes everywhere.

“Oh, bloody hell, that’s all I need! Could this day possibly get any worse?!” the brunette muttered.

Bernie finished pouring out the coffee, and went to help the poor girl with collecting everything up. As she bent down she noticed the textbook was Gray’s Anatomy, which meant she was almost certainly a medical student. It was weird, Bernie hadn’t seen her around before. It was quite a small course and female medics were, although more common nowadays, still few and far between. She must be in fifth year, Bernie didn’t really know many of the year above as they were pretty much constantly on hospital placements, trying to get as much practice in before they were properly responsible for patients.

Before Bernie had chance to ask her, she had taken her belongings out of Bernie’s hands and left the correct change on the counter, rushing towards the door with a quick “thanks”.

*****

In the next couple of weeks before the Easter break, the mystery student returned to the canteen three times. Not that Bernie was counting. She always ordered a black coffee, no food, and seemed slightly on edge. It was a stressful time of the year, especially if she was a final year medic as Bernie suspected.

On the third occasion, she was almost on the brink of tears. Bernie wanted to ask what was wrong, but there was a long queue and if the roles were reversed she wouldn’t want a stranger checking she was okay. Anyway, she was terrible at comforting people and had always been a doer rather than a shoulder to cry on.

So, she drew a little cat on the cardboard cup. Bernie told herself it was what any kind, half-decent human being would do for someone who was upset. It just so happened that this fellow student was also quite attractive, and had been occupying her thoughts since that first Friday night. Not that Bernie would ever act on her feelings; she was far too scared to admit that she found women attractive. Her parents would go spare, and it was definitely frowned upon in her dream job, a Royal Army Medic.

It was a crude drawing, simplistic but obviously feline. Suddenly, she felt embarrassed. How weird was it to just draw a cat on someone’s coffee cup? A stranger’s coffee cup. Too late, she couldn’t go back now, so she just handed the coffee over with her hand covering the little drawing and quickly moved on to serve the next person. However, out of the corner of her eye Bernie swore she saw the brunette chuckle to herself and smile at the cup when she noticed.

*****

Easter passed and Bernie was back at work, trying to juggle the mountain of revision with rowing training and her shifts in the university canteen. Her favourite customer seemed to be coming in more frequently, and each time Bernie would draw another little cartoon animal. She was no artist, but it seemed to cheer her up and her smile made Bernie’s day a little bit better.

Then came the day that would change Bernie’s life forever. The brunette was queuing up, it was four o’clock on a Monday, exams had started and she looked stressed. Bernie already had one order for a black coffee, so she decided to get ahead of the game. What should it be today? She had basically run out of animals she was capable of drawing. A flower or a heart wasn’t really Bernie’s style, might make it seem a bit weird (who was she kidding, it was already weird). Should she maybe write a message? No, definitely too stalkerish.

A smiley face seemed like the best option – circular face, black circles for eyes and a big open grin with lots of teeth. She’d added the small ‘x’ underneath before she had time to think about what she was doing. Hopefully, she would be the sort of person that put kisses at the end of notes to friends.

She grabbed both of the takeaway cups, aware that she had probably spent too much time deliberating. Handing one over to the first guy – she thought he might be called Mark or Martin, she had a feeling he was in the year below her, she smiled and said her standard “have a lovely day”.

She served the brunette, smiling shyly as she presented the already made coffee to her. “I assumed it was the usual?”

She smiled and thanked Bernie, handing over the exact change as always, then hurried out of the canteen.

She was walking back home after her shift finished when she heard heavy, fast footsteps behind her.

“Hey, hey, wait up! It’s Berenice Wolfe, isn’t it?” She turned to see the guy from the year below that had been in the canteen earlier. “Isn’t it usual for guys to ask the girl out?”

“What?” Bernie exclaimed “Sorry, who are you?”

“Marcus Dunn, sorry, I only know your name because you’re vice-president of the boat club, aren’t you? A load of my mates row, anyway it’s err, nice to meet you.”

“Oh, yeah I am. Hi – uh look I need to get back home, is there something you wanted?”

“A date?”

“What?!” Bernie was even more perplexed, he was evidently very sure of himself.

“Well, I assumed you wanted to? You know – the whole smile and a little ‘x’ on my cup this afternoon?”

Bernie felt like a weight had dropped to the bottom of her stomach. She’d given him the wrong cup! She was overwhelmed with guilt, she felt like she’d let down the girl and led on poor Marcus.

“Ah, sorry, I’d – uh – I mean, um, my friend was in the queue behind you, that one was meant for her!” Bernie watched as his face fell and guilt washed over her once more.

“Oh, okay, well I’d uh, better be off then,” Marcus shoved his hands in his pockets, clearly quite embarrassed by the whole encounter.

“No, wait!” Bernie felt really bad, but she thought of a compromise. “The rowers are having a big night out next Friday, you know, celebrate the end of the year? If your friends are going why don’t you come along as well? I’ll see you there?”

*****

She didn’t see the mysterious brunette after that day, term finished and the next year Bernie was far too busy to fit in a job around placement and making sure she thoroughly enjoyed her last year as a student. She soon mostly forgot about her, what she looked like and such; Bernie had had many crushes in the past, most of them lasting a few weeks and she never did anything about them. She only ever remembered her as the reason she’d met Marcus, never quite admitting that sometimes, she wished things had turned out differently.


	2. Lieutenant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is from Serena's point of view, and turned into a little bit of a feminist rant from me haha sorry! 
> 
> Enjoy :) x

_1992_

  
Serena settled down into a seat at the back of the lecture hall, setting down her coffee and rummaging through her bag to find her notebook. As always, she was early but that was how she liked it, able to get the seat she liked and she used the ten minutes before the lecture began to watch people entering the room. As usual, she was the only female there, most of the other seats were being filled with balding white men.

  
Surgery was still very much an old boy’s club, made up of stuffy upper class old farts, and Serena was the only female that regularly attended her hospital’s monthly surgical grand round. As a junior doctor she was subject to a lot of sexism, despite the rise in percentage of female medics. Her seniors had sneered when she showed an interest in surgery, suggesting that general practice may be more suited to a woman’s lifestyle and hinting that she wouldn’t be strong enough to cope with long hours of standing.

  
This had just made her more determined to prove them all wrong. She was currently trying to get a surgical trainee post, having taken two years out of medicine to do her MBA at Harvard. It gave her a massive edge in applications and her fiercely competitive nature meant she wanted to do as much as possible to ensure she got her dream job. That was why she attended these lectures every month: to further her knowledge of surgical fields and show her dedication to surgery. It infuriated her that a lot of her male colleagues did not need to bother, she had to do so much more to get ahead in her career than those with whom she had graduated.

  
This month’s lecture was busy, there were many unfamiliar faces and the sixty or so seats were filling fast. She wasn’t surprised; Major Duncan Rathbone was a world renowned surgeon in the Royal Army Medical Corps and he was giving a lecture on transferring field trauma techniques into the NHS. It was a fascinating subject, especially as it would probably entail a lot of vascular surgery, but Serena suspected that the main attraction to a lot of the younger doctors here was stories of war.

  
Major Rathbone greeted everyone and started talking. He was a formidable figure, easily six foot six, with broad shoulders and a square set jaw. His voice was soft but projected well which commanded attention. Serena could see why he was so well respected as both a surgeon and an officer; he probably didn't bark orders like she had seen people doing on TV or film, but she could imagine that no one dared to disobey him.   
He was a fantastic speaker and within five minutes she was almost considering signing up to RAMC herself; until she thought about the army lifestyle and decided she liked her home comforts slightly too much.

  
About ten minutes into the talk the door opened and Serena tutted. Lateness was one of her pet peeves, how hard was it to be organised and turn up on time? It was probably some arrogant surgeon that would make an excuse about a long and complicated procedure when in reality he'd been enjoying his midday cigarette. So she was surprised to see a tall blonde woman, probably about the same age as herself. She looked quite flustered, her long curls messy from the wind and cheeks flushed. Serena hadn't seen her around before; while a lot of the people here rarely turned up to the grand round meetings, she had seen most of them on the wards. She looked around for a seat, the only one was just in front of Serena. She was quite pleased that she was no longer the only female in the room, even if this stranger was disrupting the talk.

  
Hopefully, she was a fellow doctor and aspiring surgeon and Serena wanted to talk to her after the hour had finished, work out why she hadn't met this woman before. As she made her way towards the back of the room and got closer, Serena noticed a slight fullness under her shirt, she was obviously a few months pregnant. Even better, a female doctor starting a family. Serena was planning on having children, although she first needed to plan her wedding to Edward, and wanted to be well established in a surgical training post before she could even consider taking a career break.

  
Once the woman had settled down in front of her, Serena turned her attention back to Major Rathbone and what he was saying about methods of prioritising patients to make emergency and elective surgeries run smoothly without too many cancellations. The hour passed quickly, he was an engaging speaker, encouraging the audience to interact and ask questions as he spoke. Serena had filled several pages with notes, but every so often she glanced at the latecomer in front. She hadn't made any notes at all and had spent the entire time relaxed back in her seat, arms folded and resting on top of the slight bump.

  
Serena was quite envious, she was very slim and was one of the lucky women that carried all the weight in a nice round bump at the front, from the back she probaly didn't look pregnant at all. Her mother had once told Serena that having children would ruin her body and she'd never be able to lose the baby weight, but she suspected this lady would give birth and look exactly the same as before.   
When the lecture ended there was a slight queue for people to talk to the Major. Serena slowly packed her things away, she still had half an hour before her shift started. Her fellow female stood and arched her back, the material of her shirt stretching slightly at the front. She caught Serena's eye and smiled.

  
"It's nice to see a fellow female at these meetings, I'm normally the only one," Serena was naturally confident and easily spoke to strangers.

  
"I'm not local, only in the area because I heard Major Rathbone was speaking," the blonde replied.

  
"Ah, seems he has quite the fan club," Serena said. "Look at them all queuing like teenage girls at a Take That concert."

  
She looked slightly puzzled by this, gave a small chuckle that sounded like she knew there was a joke in there somewhere, but didn't really understand it. Almost as if she didn't know who Take That were, how strange!

  
"I'm sure they wouldn't be so keen if they'd been subject to his early morning training drills!" What an odd comment, Serena thought to herself.

  
The two of them made their way to the front of the hall, Serena wanted to get another coffee to keep her going through the late shift.

  
"Ah, Lieutenant, good to see you," Major Rathbone stepped away from the junior doctor with whom he was currently talking to greet the blonde woman.

That explained why she hadn't seen this woman before, she was obviously an army doctor, on leave to have children.

  
"Major," she saluted, "Fantastic lecture, how long are you over in the UK for?"

  
"Only a few weeks, twenty-fifth anniversary celebrations with the missus. When will we be getting you back?"

Serena was surprised by the informal way they were talking. She'd expected a junior officer to be similar to a junior doctor; only there to carry out the menial tasks while the senior consultants showboated in surgery. She would never consider talking about her personal life with any of her seniors.

"Not for a few months, sir" she said, nodding down at her bump.

"Well, congratulations! Although your presence will be sorely missed. She is well on her way to becoming a leading trauma consultant, I need to watch out or I'll be out of a job!" He let out a loud, barking laugh.

  
Serena realised he was addressing her and chuckled politely, unsure what to do. She wasn't really sure why she had hung back, but she felt an affinity to this blonde, a fellow spirit fighting through a male dominated profession to get to the top. It was nice that Major Rathbone was appreciative of her talents, and seemed to treat her as an equal.

  
"I have to say, I'm disappointed by the lack of women attending the lecture, do you think it's just because the army doesn't appeal?" She was impressed that it seemed to be an issue for the army Major, she had expected he would be similar to a lot of the surgeons within her own hospital.

  
"I'm not sure it's the army, it's the surgery that doesn't appeal, sir."

  
"Well, that is a shame. Are you a surgeon yourself?"

  
"Well I'm hoping to get a training post, I'm absolutely fascinated by vascular surgery." She felt a bit embarrassed, admitting that her passion was the same specialty as the Major's.

  
"Wonderful, I'm doing a few teaching surgeries while I'm on leave, would you like to join and maybe assist? Any friend of the Lieutenant's must be a fantastic doctor, she's quite choosy."

  
Serena noticed the Lieutenant was blushing now and so she admitted that they hadn't actually met before, but if it was okay she would still like to observe the surgeries. She couldn't quite believe her luck, this was a fantastic opportunity and she had to put in a lot of effort not to squeal and hug the Major. He gave Serena his details and she gushed her thanks, earning a small smirk from the Lieutenant.

  
"You're a very lucky woman, he is a dream to watch in theatre. I'd better be off, sir, Marcus will be wondering where I've got to. I'm going for a scan later. It was nice to meet you, and good luck on the job application," the blonde smiled broadly at Serena. She had a friendly face, long nose and freckles dotted her cheeks. She was glowing, and Serena felt a pang of envy. She couldn't imagine Edward wanting to go to a scan with her, or supporting her through an army life with months of being absent.

Before Serena had a chance to talk to her, she had turned and strode out of lecture hall. She'd been right, there was absolutely no evidence of the baby bump from behind.

  
*****

  
Serena got to assist Major Rathbone in an open aortic aneurysm repair and she decided that the rush she experienced was better than any drug (she'd only ever smoked cannabis herself, but a few friends had described their trips to her and her elation and giddiness after surgery sounded pretty similar).

  
She got the training post and a couple of years later she and Edward finally started the family she'd wanted. When she was pregnant, she thought of the Lieutenant a few times, wondering what she was doing now, whether she had been promoted and was making a name for herself as a RAMC surgeon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is set in 1992 when Bernie would have been pregnant with Cameron, because it also fits with when I reckon Serena would have been a junior doctor but she hasn't had Elinor yet. However, she references Take That and I know they didn't become super famous until about 94, so just pretend that they were famous before that? Because I can't think of any similar boy bands in that year that would have had a massive teenage girl fanbase... (if anyone can let me know!)
> 
> Also a grand round is a teaching opportunity where doctors from the hospital present a case or interesting topic, but they do sometimes have external speakers


	3. Supermarket Sweep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say about this one, except I wrote most of it late at night whilst watching the election results. Just a short one, because I couldn't think of anything better for this time period :/ I have planned the rough plots of the next two!

_2003_

Barbecues should be banned, in Bernie's opinion. Especially on a late May Bank Holiday, when the weather was always crap but people insisted on getting out into the garden, invariably ending up huddled under a flimsy gazebo with soggy burger buns and with a smokey haze filling the air. However, Marcus had been insistent on gathering family round for Charlotte's birthday. Conveniently he had then agreed to long shifts in the few days before, leaving Bernie to do all of the preparation on one of the busiest weekends of the year. 

 _Fucking typical,_ she thought to herself as she tried to weave her way in and out of people deliberating over whether they wanted seeded buns or granary (what was the difference? Bernie had no clue whatsoever, but apparently it was a very important decision for the customers of Sainsbury's). She lost Charlotte and Cameron several times, both of them had wanted to escort Bernie to the supermarket, mainly because Marcus always bought them treats and they were expecting the same from her. 

Of course, she'd give in to them, always feeling the guilt of not being around but knowing deep down that spoiling them wasn't going to change anything. So far, Cameron had managed to sneak a magazine in the trolley, Charlotte bringing a pack of glittery gel pens towards her with large puppy eyes. "Go on then. Right, what's left on the list, Cameron?"

"Ice cream, crisps and cake!" He grinned up at his mother, who tutted at him.

"I'm fairly sure salad is on there as well, isn't it?"

"Yeah but we don't need salad, it's gross," he complained.

"I don't want salad at my party," Charlotte piped up, "and you can't say anything because it's my birthday and you have to do what I want." 

Bernie bit her tongue, she had noticed Charlotte was becoming a bit selfish, but her discipline meant nothing in their house now and Bernie often felt like she was watching her children grow up as an outsider. Charlotte would be 8 on Tuesday, but she was going on 14 judging by her attitude.

"Sorry darling, but we're having salad. You're grandma and grandpa will want it." Charlotte pouted quite spectacularly, and turned on her heel, stomping one foot as she headed down the freezer aisle. Bernie couldn't help but chuckle, she knew well enough that her daughter had learnt that from her. She followed her, Cameron in tow, when she heard a familiar conversation across the aisle.

"I don't care if Daddy always buys you ice cream when you come out shopping, Elinor, you're not getting any from me. You were an absolute terror in the shoe shop and I said you could only have a treat if you were good," 

Bernie looked over to see a woman of a similar age to her, brunette hair in a short bob, talking sternly to a girl of about Charlotte's age, with the same stubborn expression that her own daughter was still wearing. There was something about her that was familiar, she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Maybe Charlotte and this other girl, Elinor, went to the same school and she'd seen the brunette in the playground. 

XXXXX

Serena was stressed, Elinor had failed to tell her that her school shoes were pinching her toes until she came home one day with blisters on her feet. This meant trying to go shopping on the Bank Holiday weekend with an extremely fussy nine year old girl. Every pair of shoes the poor assistant brought out had something wrong with them; too loose, too tight, looked like boys shoes. Of course, the ones she wanted were the slip on ones, which thankfully didn't start until a larger size. She'd shot the assistant a very grateful look when they said that. Elinor's bottom lip had been stuck out and trembled, threatening a tantrum, especially when Serena refused point blank to buy the shoes that came with a toy in the box. 

Eventually, she grudgingly agreed to the ones the assistant thought were the best fit, which Serena thought were lovely for a girl of her age, simple ballerina shoes with a velcro strap and heart details in patent. "I bet you'll be glad when we're gone," she'd apologised at the till, the young girl smiled.

"Honestly, it happens more than you'd think." Serena knew that she would be going into the back to complain about the spoilt brat she'd served as soon as they had walked out of the door.

Thanks to these events she just wanted to quickly whizz round the supermarket and get home to a nice glass of Shiraz. Edward was away this weekend, supposedly at a conference, but he would probably be spending more time in a bed than a lecture hall. Unfortunately, Elinor had other ideas and was dragging her heels. The problem with her was Edward couldn't say no to her. He had no qualms with letting Serena be the strict authority figure, while he deliberately antagonised Serena's efforts to discipline Elinor.

"See,  _that_ girl's mum is buying her ice cream," Elinor pointed over to a lanky blonde woman who was loading tubs of various flavours into her trolley, her two children evidently fighting over which ones they wanted to buy. 

"Cameron, will you stop it, you know your cousin is allergic to nuts so put that hazelnut whirl back!" The boy giggled and the woman shook her head in defeat. She caught Serena's eye and smiled wearily.

"Whoever thought Bank Holidays were a good idea should be shot. If it were my decision, all of them would be banned, as would barbecues," hearing her voice gave Serena a sudden flash back, to almost ten years ago, in the hospital lecture hall. 

It couldn't be her could it? Her son looked about the right age, but Serena couldn't quite remember whether her hair was the same colour, her voice the same tone. It would be too much of a coincidence surely, to meet up again? Especially since army medics must spend a lot of time out of the country. Anyway, even if it was her there was no way she would remember that meeting and if Serena mentioned it she would definitely seem like an odd stalker. 

"You must be mad, having a party this weekend, have you seen the forecast?" She decided to go for the typical British conversation - the weather. 

Bernie grimaced and laughed. She still couldn't place the woman, hoping it would come to her soon because if it was someone she knew then this could get quite embarrassing. She cursed herself silently for starting a conversation which would probably end badly. 

"Yes, I did point this out to my husband, but he's a man and he would barbecue in a snow storm just to prove how macho he is," the brunette laughed and looked like she was about to say something when her daughter tugged at her arm.

"I'm  _bored,_ come on Mummy let's go,"

"Oh for goodness sake Elinor, fine, but don't think I didn't see you sneak those Magnums into the trolley, put them back right now," she smiled apologetically at Bernie and suddenly it hit her. It was her, the final year student that always ordered a strong black coffee, whom Bernie had never had the courage to talk to. She'd met her again since then, when she'd been pregnant with Cam, but she hadn't recognised Bernie so she hadn't mentioned anything. She remembered now that she'd been wanting to get into vascular surgery. Bernie wondered if she'd got the post, whether she was doing her dream job now.

"Good luck with the party," she said, as her daughter practically dragged her towards the checkout.

"Thanks," Bernie replied, as she turned back to her own kids who had started bickering about what film they were going to watch later. She wanted to follow her, find out her name, but again, she wasn't brave enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can guarantee that the shop assistant goes in the back and moans about Elinor, speaking from experience as someone who works in a shoe shop!


	4. A Name to a Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments!  
> Sorry this update took a while, I was struggling to put ideas into the timeline, but thank you so much Beezarre for letting me bounce ideas off you, I don't think I'd have gotten anywhere without that! 
> 
> This is set in 2010, so Serena works at a different hospital, but is still in the South West area (where Holby is)  
> Hope you enjoy! :)

_2010_

It had been a long week for Serena and so she had decided on her second favourite form of stress relief, retail therapy (Shiraz was, of course, top of the list but even she had to admit that drinking it at 10am on a Sunday morning would indicate some sort of problem).

She had been acting lead of Vascular Surgery for the last two months, stepping into the breach after the previous surgeon to hold the post had left suddenly under a cloud of complaints and malpractice suits. She had applied for the permanent post as she wanted to increase her managerial experience and put the Harvard MBA to good use, and since Ellie was now 15 and spending most of her time living with Edward (because he let her get away with more), she felt ready for the step up in responsibility. She had felt fairly confident, having received good feedback from her CEO that the ward was running well under her supervision, and she was more than qualified for the job.

When she'd been told that a Mr. Wilkins would be taking the post she'd been disappointed. She'd known they were advertising outside of the hospital, but surely her experience and knowledge of the ward made her the best candidate. She had asked, in a slightly more tactful way, "and what has he got that I haven’t?” to be told that the board felt she may not have realised the full implications of being head of Vascular surgery, how it would affect her family life and whether she would have the steel to make tough managerial decisions without letting individual patients affect her decisions.

This had turned her disappointment into rage; how dare a bunch of jumped up accountants and solicitors dictate how she lived her life and question her professional and managerial qualities? Mr Wilkins had started at the beginning of the week and she had tried very hard not to let her bitterness affect her relationship with her new boss. It wasn't his fault, after all, the only problem was he was an obnoxious twat that thought the sun shone from his own arse.

He had spent the week cherry picking the more complex cases and showboating in theatre, whilst giving Serena any patient he deemed 'boring' or 'routine'. He had also told her that he was in no way responsible for teaching the junior doctors, they could watch or assist in theatre but he couldn't be doing with any of the mentoring scheme because it was ‘a pile of crap'.

"It's basically mothering them, completely unnecessary. I never had it. I guess if it's compulsory then you'd better sort it out, Serena. You know them better than I do, I expect they'll appreciate a maternal approach," he had said to her, when she'd suggested that the two young doctors starting on their ward next week would appreciate the clinical lead taking an interest in them.

She was hoping that this was all just him asserting his dominance, not that he needed to, and that he would relax into the role within a few weeks. If he didn't she may have to start looking for alternatives. For now, she was treating herself to a day in the centre of Bristol, shopping, drinking coffee and eating pastry.

“Can I get some help over here?!” someone yelled from across the street. So much for a relaxing day not thinking about medicine, she sighed before running over to what had happened. An older gentleman had collapsed, his skin was pale and sweaty.

There was a woman kneeling over him, she’d opened his shirt to get a better look at his chest and was currently assessing whether he was breathing, trying to listen and feel for air hitting her cheek. She evidently knew what she was doing, and it didn’t look like he was breathing, so Serena turned to the people standing around.

“Could you call an ambulance, tell them a man, roughly in his 70s, has collapsed, he isn’t breathing and we are about to start CPR. There’s a doctor with him,” She pointed at young man holding a mobile, knowing in these situations it was better to give specific instructions to people, rather than saying “someone call an ambulance!”

“Make that two doctors!” said the woman who had called for help initially. Serena looked at her as she moved to kneeling over the man, hovering over to start CPR. A mop of blonde hair, long nose, hazel eyes. It was the woman that had crossed her path before, she was sure of it. But there was no time to think of that now, they had a life to save.

Serena kneeled beside the man’s head, two fingers under his chin, tilting his head back so that his airway stayed open and she could give the rescue breaths as soon as the Lieutenant ( _she had to find out her name!_ ) had got to thirty.

“27, 28, 29, 30,” she counted, to let Serena know she was done. Pinching his nose, she formed a seal over his mouth and blew air into his lungs. She saw the reassuring rise in his chest, and repeated. She quirked an eyebrow at the blonde, about to ask if she knew what had happened, but she answered before she had a chance to speak.

“I found him on the floor, no one seems to have seen anything,” she paused to catch her breath, “I’d say judging by his age and the tar staining on his fingers,”

“Most likely to be MI causing cardiac arrest,” Serena finished the sentence. He was the right demographic for having cardiac problems. The man that called the ambulance told them it would be 10 minutes. They looked at one another, concern in both of their eyes. She counted up to 30 again, and Serena repeated the rescue breaths.         

After the third round, Serena tilted her head, a silent instruction for them to swap over, knowing she would be getting tired and the compressions less effective. There were a few onlookers at this point, and they watched the silent exchange with interest.

“If it’s an MI he’ll need…” Serena started, just as her fellow doctor said “We should get some aspirin,”. They locked eyes again, Serena continuing compressions, and smiled humourlessly. They both knew that chances of CPR being successful were small, but they were hopeful.

Serena asked the same man who had called the ambulance to go into the Boots and get aspirin, and then checked the man’s coat pockets whilst the Lieutenant ( _stop calling her that!_ ) proceeded with the rescue breaths. She looked at Serena once she’d finished, “No GTN spray?”

She shook her head, not surprised. People often got prescribed these relief sprays and left them in a draw at home, gathering dust. Halfway through this set of chest compressions the man started to cough.

Immediately, without needing to communicate, they rolled him onto his side, the blonde tilting his head back so he wouldn’t choke on any vomit. He slowly came round and they encouraged him to stay lying for a little while as he got his bearings.

As they got him sat up onto a bench, Serena asked him if he could remember what happened.

“It was just…like my angina…I sat down but it wouldn’t go away…it got worse and worse and then…” he was still struggling to catch his breath.

“Okay, what’s your name?”

“Graham White,”

“Okay Graham, my name’s Bernie and this is…” She glanced at Serena apologetically, who chipped in “Serena,” whilst she was opening the aspirin tablets.

“We’re doctors, the ambulance is on its way, we think you’ve had a heart attack. We’ve got some aspirin for you, are you okay to take it?” He nodded and Serena handed him the tablet along with the bottle of water she had in her bag. She was glad they had bought the high dose tablets so he didn’t have to try and swallow four.

He was doing well, obviously tired and still in quite a lot of pain, but alive. Serena smiled at Bernie, who was sat on the other side of him. She was glad she had a name to put to the face. After they’d met again at the supermarket, Serena had often wondered what she was doing, whether she had been posted to various warzones that she was hearing about on the news.

She had wondered why her thoughts kept skipping back to this woman, whom she had only met twice but had been drawn to, wanting to get to know her better. A couple of years ago, she had been in a coffee shop and had said to the barista “Strong and hot is all I care about,” and she’d had an odd sense of déjà vu. An old memory from medical school stirred, a friendly face in the canteen, drawings on a takeaway cup, tangled blonde hair and a lopsided, shy smile. Could that have been her? She had decided she would never find out.

But now, with the Lieutenant – no, Bernie – sat so close, it was a sign. She should introduce herself, properly. It was possible that she wouldn’t remember Serena, but that wouldn’t matter, they knew each other’s names and they were both doctors. They could easily have some common ground to talk about, once they’d ensured Graham was safely on his way to hospital.

She was about to say something when they heard the sirens. The ambulance pulled up and Serena indicated to Bernie that she should talk to the paramedics, as she’d been the first on the scene. Her handover was effective, she stood tall and straightened her shoulders as she gave them the necessary information and instructed them to take him straight to the cardiac ward, rather than A&E.

Serena was impressed, the orders weren’t bossy or patronising and she could see that Bernie was now probably a higher rank in the army, and was used to commanding as well as saving lives. She could see Bernie in the army environment, it must be so different to the NHS, no state of the art technology, keeping patients stable in the back of trucks as they drive over beaten tracks.

Bernie looked and commanded herself like an army professional. She had confidence and an authoritative elegance when she was talking to the paramedics. It suited her and Serena wondered if she could ever come close to that mastery, especially when dealing with the board and Mr Wilkins. Yes, she had that sort of effect on the junior doctors and they respected her, but the board just tolerated her, and kicked up a lot of fuss when she tried to initiate new ideas.

Just as Bernie finished talking to the paramedics, and Graham had thanked them both profusely, Serena’s phone rang. She groaned, it was probably Ellie, wanting to be taken over to a friend’s house. She was confused when she saw it was from one of the registrars on the ward.

“Mr Chahal, what can I do for you?” she tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. Amrit wouldn’t be calling her on her day off unless he really needed her.

“You’re not going to like this, Ms. Campbell, but we’ve got a triple A coming in and there’s a worry it’s already ruptured. I know it’s Mr Wilkins on call, but we can’t get hold of him and I’m not comfortable doing this on my own. How soon can you get here?”

This was the last straw, Mr Wilkins should be accessible, it was his day on call and he should be the one dealing with these emergencies. She couldn’t do anything about it, a ruptured aortic aneurysm was bad news and Amrit had only assisted her in a few procedures. She needed to be there, even if she let him take the lead.

“20 minutes, hopefully, but if the patient gets there before me then stabilise, crossmatch and get them opened up and packed.”

“Will do, thanks Ms. Campbell,” he hung up and she cursed under her breath. Bernie was looking at her through her fringe. “On call?”

“No, but the person who is has conveniently gone underground. Sorry, I’d better…” she waved an arm vaguely behind her, not really wanting to leave when they hadn’t spoken properly.

“Yep, of course,” Bernie shoved one hand in her pocket and offered the other to Serena “Good to work with you, we make a great team!”

She laughed as Serena shook her hand. It was warm and slightly rough, Serena knew hers was the same, no amount of moisturiser ever repaired the damage of constant scrubbing and iodine hand wash. They gripped each other’s hand tightly, pausing for a moment, and Serena could swear she saw some disappointment flicker through Bernie’s soft hazel eyes, before she remembered what she needed to do. She dropped Bernie’s hand and coughed, muttering goodbye as she hurried towards the car park.

XXXXX

Bernie watched her go. Serena, she’d recognised her as soon as she’d looked up from checking the man’s breathing. They had got to work effortlessly, Bernie had been aware of what Serena was thinking, she couldn’t tell whether it was down to the fact that they were both accomplished doctors and knew emergency protocols inside out, or if there was something else. They’d practically said the same thing in the exact same moment.

She cursed the patient that had called Serena away, she had been about to introduce herself properly. She felt a kindred spirit in Serena, even though they barely knew each other. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if Serena recognised her, but she had a daughter a similar age to Charlotte, she was evidently high up in her field and Bernie felt drawn to her, as she had done all those years ago when she’d walked into the canteen.

She thought about her own daughter, she’d said she would come out with Bernie for a shopping trip, some mother-daughter time Bernie desperately craved, but she’d told her last minute she had too much work to do. Bernie was proud of Charlotte, despite being reserved and moody around her mother, she was doing well at school and was throwing herself into her GCSEs.

Bernie sighed, suddenly exhausted. CPR had taken its toll and her arms ached and her knees were sore from the concrete slabs. She tried to put Serena to the back of her mind, think about what she would make the kids for dinner as Marcus was working, but thoughts of the brunette kept popping up.

She reflected that it was a shame that the world had aligned to ensure that they would only ever pass each other, like ships in the night.

 


	5. Meet the Husband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this has taken a while, sorry I've been super busy with exams, but I'm posting this chapter as part of Berena Appreciation Week Day 3 - pre-series. Hope you enjoy!

_January 2015_

  
Bernie was finding it incredibly difficult to concentrate on the words in front of her. Marcus was snoring, the vibrations shuddering through her as he had decided to fall asleep on her shoulder, and the train was hot and stuffy. She’d picked up the book at the train station, knowing she would need some entertainment for the two hour journey and Marcus, having worked nights all week, would not be in a talkative mood.

  
She didn’t see why they couldn’t have driven, but Marcus had insisted they make a weekend of it, going on the train and staying in a hotel, like they had done when they first started going out at university and neither owned cars. It had been a while since the two of them had spent time together and Charlotte had agreed to spend the weekend at a friend’s.

  
They were going to London for Bernie to be awarded the Military Cross, for her “bravery and professionalism”. She didn’t feel like she deserved it; all she had done was try and give first aid to three of her colleagues that had been shot during an ambush. Only one had survived, but because she had gone to treat them whilst still under fire, that apparently deserved a medal.

  
_Da’s pale blue eyes looked over the top of the paper. ‘Put some salt on your bread,’ he said. ‘You’ll sweat underground.’_

  
Bernie frowned and read the line again, before realising she had skipped an entire page. That explained why she didn’t understand the context. She sighed and looked across the aisle, giving up with the book. She thumbed through it absentmindedly. It did seem interesting, an historical novel following families through the First World War, the struggles of working class miners, sordid affairs between the upper class and servants, a ‘Romeo and Juliet’ style relationship between a Brit and a German, all on a backdrop of politics and tragedy.

  
She set the book down on the table, deciding to come back to it, and glanced around the carriage. It was quiet, not unusual for mid-morning on a Friday, she guessed. She did a double take when she looked over at the table directly across the aisle from her.

  
It couldn’t be, could it? Cropped brunette hair, dark eyes and an air of authority. Student, aspiring surgeon, mother in a supermarket, unexpected peer on a busy high street. Now a fellow traveller, staring out of the window, eyes looking further than the fields and trees, almost into the past. Serena. This woman had flitted in and out of Bernie’s life, a ghost, always just out of reach.

  
She wanted to go over, say hello, but the deep reverie that she was in stopped her. She looked haunted, hand hovering over a pendant around her neck. She’s not sure how long she spent watching Serena, wondering about her life, where she was going and why she looked so sad.

 

 

“Cheer up, love, it might never happen,” there were two men sat across the table from Serena. They were probably in their late forties, a similar age to herself, and judging by the litter on the table they had started drinking quite a while ago.

  
Serena didn’t acknowledge them, continued to stare out of the window. She hated long expanses of time like this, when she had nothing to occupy her thoughts. It was about two months since her mother had died, and she was still plagued with guilt. She should have treated her better, listened to what her mother wanted.

  
_“You’ve let me down.”_

  
How many times had she heard this, or seen it in her mother’s expression. All she had wanted was to make her mother proud. Becoming a doctor, the Harvard MBA, these hadn’t been enough. Especially not at the end, because in Serena’s desperation to do what was right and be a doctor, she couldn’t separate the medicine from her emotions.

  
“I said, cheer up love, it might never happen!”

  
She glanced over to the man speaking, a seedy grin on his face. She glared at him, the same one she uses on patients that are getting aggressive or too close for comfort, but it had no effect.

  
“It already has,” she bit back.

  
His smile faltered slightly, but his friend egged him on, nudging with his elbow.

  
“Well aren’t you a little ray of sunshine? Come on darling, a little smile will make you feel better,”

  
“Hey, cut it out,” another voice added to the conversation, coming from across the aisle.

 

 

Bernie didn’t like the look of those two men and they had no right to be talking to others like that.

  
“Would you like to come and sit with us?” she offered, and Serena looked at her gratefully. She crossed the aisle as if in a daze and settled down into the window seat. Bernie glared over at the drunks, but they had already moved on to a different topic of conversation.

  
When she turned back to Serena she smiled and gestured at Marcus, “Sorry about the snoring,”

  
Serena stared at her blankly for a moment, as if trying to process what she’d said, but it was brief, and she seemed to shake herself and pulled the corners of her mouth into a smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  
“Don’t worry, my ex-husband was the same, although he was adamant I was making it up.”

  
“They never think it’s them, do they?” she chuckled. “Sorry, don’t let me disturb you, if you’d rather not talk.” Bernie was aware that she might want to be left alone, to her thoughts, but Serena shook her head.

  
“Not at all, I’d like the distraction,” she dropped her gaze which lighted on the book on the table. “Oh, that book is wonderful, I read it in about three days. I just loved the human aspect of war, the research that must have gone into the book is incredible. To weave new characters in with real historical characters with such ease, making it so believable, is a real skill. I’m so glad he included the women’s rights movement as well, he handles it so sensitively – showing exactly what happened and making the women seem like heroes. A lot of writers sneer at the Suffragettes but he writes them as they were, intelligent feisty women.”

  
Bernie nodded along as Serena talked, she became increasingly more animated, the words flowing freely. She was hardly listening to what she was saying, mesmerised by her voice and trying to pluck up the courage to introduce herself.

  
Serena blushed, she had just started rambling on, like she always did when she was nervous. Truth be told, she’d recognised Bernie as soon as she’d heard her voice berating the men. She didn’t want to let on that she recognised her though, that would just seem a bit odd.   
No, she had to bite the bullet. Their lives had crossed too many times for them to not know about one another.

  
“Sorry, this might seem a bit odd, but I think we’ve met before. It’s Bernie, isn’t it? There was the cardiac arrest on the high street?”

  
Bernie breathed a sigh of relief, she remembered. “Yes, Serena, right?" She nodded and Marcus started to stir.

  
He looked around blearily, confused as to why he was nestled onto Bernie's shoulder. It was unusual for the two of them, Bernie never had been a tactile person anyway, and in the last few years things had become more distant between them. That was why she had been surprised when Marcus had agreed to come with her for the ceremony. He'd been to a few in the past but soon stopped. Bernie thought it was probably because he didn't like being an army husband and so on display, although he never said it. He would just always say he had work.

  
"Sorry to disturb you," Serena apologised as Marcus sat up straight, shifting in his seat so there was a gap between the two of them.

  
"Ah you did me a favour, my back wouldn't thank me if I spent the whole journey in that position."

  
"Marcus, this is Serena. Remember the guy who had a heart attack in the street a few years ago? She's the doctor who came to my aid," Bernie introduced her, not mentioning the other times they had met.

  
Marcus shook her hand, "Pleasure to meet you, what specialty?"

  
"Vascular surgery,"

  
"Ah, a plumber, eh?" He laughed at his joke and Serena smirked slightly, she had heard that many times before. It was hardly an original statement.

  
"What about you? I assume you're a doctor as well?" He nodded.

  
"Orthopaedics,"

  
"Shouldn't you say carpenter?" She quipped and shot a smug smile at Bernie, who was trying to hide her laugh but failing miserably. Marcus forced out a chuckle, he had walked into that one.

  
Bernie wanted to congratulate Serena on getting her dream job, but for some reason she didn't want to let on to Marcus that they'd met several times over the years. It wasn't something she wanted to share, although it wasn't entirely clear to her why but she felt slightly guilty.   
Marcus steered the conversation, as was so often the csse, back to him and orthopaedics. They chatted for a while, and Serena gradually lost the melancholy look in her eyes, distracted from whatever had been bothering her.

  
She wanted to know what had been on Serena's mind, but it wouldn't be appropriate. She wasn't fully concentrating on the conversation, watching Serena as she spoke. She blushed slightly when Serena looked at her directly, having been caught staring.

  
"I got into it at university, I'd always wanted to do surgery, but I'm not really sure what pushed me towards orthopaedics," Marcus was saying.

  
"I seem to remember there being a very attractive orthopaedic registrar that you had a small crush on in final year. You spent a lot of time getting extra experience on the wards, I hardly ever saw you!" Bernie chuckled.

  
"Oh have you two been together since university? That's lovely." She was slightly jealous, not that she'd admit it. She wished things had been different for her and Edward, well she wished Edward had been different, but there was no time for regretting things in the past.

  
"Yes, we have, although it almost never happened, if it hadn't been for Bernie's lack of concentration I'd never have spoken to her."

  
Serena tilted her head, curious. Bernie didn't seem the type to be distracted, not that Serena really had any idea what Bernie was like, but she had built up a picture of her personality in her head, especially after their last meeting.

  
Bernie blushed, but Marcus carried on regardless.

  
"I was getting a coffee from the university canteen and she was working there. She gave me the cup and she'd drawn a face on it, with a little kiss. I thought she wanted me to ask her out, I couldn't believe it. I'd seen her around campus before and already had a bit of a crush. Most of the guys doing medicine did, not that Bernie noticed. Turns out she'd actually meant to give it to a friend, but she'd got the cups mixed up. She took pity on me though, agreed to meet up, and the rest is history." He smiled fondly at her, but she wasn't looking.

  
Her and Serena's eyes were locked, Serena's slightly wide and silently asking Bernie what she was almost certain of. Had she been the friend? The blush and Bernie's brief drop of gaze confirmed it. She swallowed, not quite sure how to react. She had never quite registered Bernie, but she had always appreciated the little pictures. She had struggled a lot with stress in her final year, so hadn't thought about the intention behind the kind gestures.

  
Marcus was still chattering away and Bernie broke away from Serena's gaze, not really wanting the reminder of how she often she had wondered what could have happened if she hadn't given Marcus that cup.

  
She glanced at her watch, still about 20 minutes before they got into London. She wasn't sure she could talk about her own relationship with Marcus, who was evidently trying to put up a 'perfect life' facade for Serena, for the rest of the journey. There was a slight lull in the conversation so she steered it towards more neutral ground, the recent discussions surrounding junior doctor contracts.

  
It turned slightly heated, Serena and Marcus taking opposite views. Bernie sided more with Serena, although she was taking an outside view, it didn't affect her team, who didn't have much choice in the hours they worked.

  
The tannoy announced they were approaching Paddington, and Serena got up to collect her small overnight bag, feeling in a much better mood for her weekend trip for Elinor's birthday.

  
"Well it was nice to meet you, and see you again," she said to Marcus and Bernie respectively. "Have a nice weekend."

  
They both smiled and thanked her but as she reached up to get her bag the train jolted to a stop. Bernie had started to get up but Serena lost balance and collided with her, pushing her back into her seat. She was sat on her lap, faces inches from each other. She leapt up quickly, stammering out an apology and rushing off the train.

  
She couldn't put a finger on it, but there had been an odd atmosphere between them when she'd fallen. She decided it must have just been her wanting a connection to be there, having found out Bernie had drawn those pictures and feeling out of sorts due to her mother's death. She took a deep breath and tried to put it from her mind, searching for which platform Elinor's train would be coming into.

 

  
Talking about how they'd met had obviously made Marcus nostalgic and more affectionate, Bernie enjoyed her weekend but she couldn't get Serena out of her mind. She knew that as soon as they were home and she started preparing to leave for her next tour the bubble of simplicity and happiness that had surrounded them would be burst and the arguments and distance would start again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book Bernie is reading is called Fall of Giants by Ken Follett, I can't recommend it enough!!


	6. A Proper Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are! This is compliant with S18E20 All Fall Down, and involves a rewrite of their first scene together. I've tried to keep it as close to canon as possible, but given it my own twist to keep it in line with the rest of the fic, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading and commenting and thank you Beezarre for the ideas for the last couple of chapters and letting me flail a lot about writing haha (and also pointing out the now corrected spelling mistake in the chapter title *bangs head on wall*)

_February 2016_

She needed a cigarette. Her last one. She was about to light it when the text from Marcus came through. _How’s it going?_ Well there was a question.

She hadn’t exactly taken the job at Holby City Hospital to make friends. She had a, hopefully, mutual respect for Jac Naylor. She’d have been good in the army, Bernie mused. What she’d seen of her colleagues on Keller however. Well, she knew the NHS would be different, but lounging around, staff dropping equipment. Not that it mattered, she was here to do her job. To build a reputation as a good surgeon.

Going against procedure and talking back to the CEO. That probably wasn’t the best start, well, it was to get a rather bad reputation. _Now it’s 32 times with 7 survivors? Touch wood._ She cringed inwardly, Hanssen was not her old Colonel, and he was less than impressed. Not with Bernie’s surgical skill, but with her attitude.

“Which part of ‘I need my car today’ are you struggling to understand?”

She looked up from her phone and saw the woman who had been shouting at her car at the start of her shift. Well, maybe she could help someone today without doing something wrong.

“Hello?”

“Engine been growling or whining?”

Serena turned around suddenly. That voice, immediately recognisable. She put down the phone and raised her eyebrows. Bernie. What on earth was she doing at Holby?

“Any intermittent smell of hot or burning rubber?” She was walking towards Serena, obviously hadn’t recognised her yet.

“Define intermittent.”

“Alternator might be cactus.”

By now Bernie had reached her car. She could see her face properly now. No. It couldn’t be. She smiled inwardly. Maybe Holby wasn’t so bad after all.

They smiled at each other nervously. Suddenly it clicked for Serena. Berenice Wolfe. The new consultant. Ex-RAMC. She’d seen her CV, of course she had as deputy CEO, but she’d never imagined it could be _Bernie_.

“Funny, you don’t look like a mechanic, apart from the fag.”

“I’m not a mechanic I’m a trauma surgeon.” 

“I know, Berenice Wolfe. Bernie. Shall we start again? Serena Campbell.” She reached out her hand and Bernie smiled.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d remember.”

Serena laughed it off, didn’t want to say _of course I’d remember_ because that might just seem too odd. Instead she pointed at the cigarette.

“I think you're meant to light it.”

“Hah, I’ve had this cigarette for two years, my husband, Marcus, made me quit when British Forces left Helmand, so I tore up every cigarette I had, except this one. Thought I’d keep it as a symbol, of my freedom, my old independent self.”

“Hm, as symbols of freedom go, it’s a bit pants. A nice bottle of Shiraz however….”

“Goes really nicely with a fag.”

Serena laughed. She had always known they would get on well and this easy flow of conversation proved it.

“Coffee? If you’ve got time?”

“Yeah I’m on my lunch break.” Bernie smiled, changing the text she was about to send to Marcus from _shit_ to _shift going great._ Serena insisted on buying, so she went and sat at a table in Pulses. It had never occurred to her that Serena Campbell, deputy CEO would be _her_. When Mr Hanssen had mentioned her in passing, she’d only thought how good it was that someone on senior management was female, that it would make a change to be working with women of a similar standing. Although the army was becoming less male centred, it was still dominated by men at the top.

She thought about what Hanssen had said. _Not one of them could quite believe you’d made the decision to leave the army, perhaps you don’t quite believe it either._ It was going to take some getting used to, she didn’t feel like she fit. It was only her first day, but she had a feeling if she carried on aggravating people it would be her last. If it was to be, at least she had found a friend in Serena.

It was odd, she felt like she knew so much about her, but she was still a stranger. She berated her younger self for not being brave enough to talk to the pretty girl with brunette curls and a love of strong coffee. How different life could have been. Still, she wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. She fully intended on staying in contact with Serena, whether she stayed working at Holby or not.

Serena returned with the drinks and pushed Bernie’s towards her. She picked it up absentmindedly but something caught her eye. She laughed, her loud honk that she hated, but seemed to make Serena’s eyes light up. A cat.

“I’m no good at art, but I never did thank you for those little drawings. I was in final year, you know how stressful that was, but they always cheered me up.”

“You’re very welcome.” She didn’t want to say any more than that, didn’t want to admit her slight crush on Serena.

“It’s silly to keep meeting up like this, next time you should just call me,” she smiled and Bernie laughed again, passing her phone over to Serena to put the number in.

Serena’s phone started ringing and she grimaced. “Urgh, it’s my daughter, Elinor. I’m going to miss the play she’s in because of this car, and she is not going to be happy. Hopefully I can get to the evening performance.”

Bernie was about to offer to take a look at the car; she was no mechanic, but the army meant she’d picked up a few things along the way. Her pager rang and she frowned at it, she was needed back on Darwin.

Serena had picked up her phone and so Bernie just waved at her, indicating to the pager. Serena nodded in sympathy and smiled back, rolling her eyes slightly at whatever Elinor was saying. Bernie chuckled, it sounded very similar to conversations she often had with her own two.

 

 

It was a stressful day for both of them, for different reasons. Bernie was glad she had decided to stay at Holby, although she was sure it would take a lot of getting used to. At least Serena would be there, she couldn’t wait to get to know her properly. She got home late and the rest of the house had already gone to bed. Marcus had kindly left a plate of food in the fridge, ready to be heated up.

As she ate, she realised she’d never texted Serena. She found the number in her contacts and typed out a quick message.

**Hope you got your car sorted, enjoy the play if you’re there! Bernie.**

She frowned at the phone, what was it Cam was always sending her? The little faces. She found the button with the smiley face and scrolled through. She laughed as she added the little icon to the end of the message.

 

It was the interval of Elinor’s play and Serena was waiting for Jason to return from the toilet. Her phone was on silent but she looked at it anyway. She wasn’t quite sure why, she doubted she’d have any notifications. She turned the screen on, expecting nothing, but broke into a smile. A text from Bernie. Her grin widened as she saw the little cat face after her name.

She saved Bernie’s number, adding the same emoji to the contact name, then replied.

**Yes, managed to fix it myself, got covered in grease! Hope your shift went well, see you again at work, for many more coffees, I hope. Serena.**

She chuckled and added a little mug of coffee to the text, Jason had appeared and they made their way to their seats. She sighed happily, it may have taken them 29 years but they were finally friends.

 

Bernie grinned at her phone, the image of Serena smudged with grease was quite adorable really. Serena was now saved in her contacts with the little coffee cup next to her name. She tucked herself in to bed, trying not to disturb Marcus, and reflected on the day. Overall, could have been better, but could have been much worse. Holby was going to grow on her, she could tell. Leaving the army finally felt like the right decision.

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! (For this one anyway, I have been well and truly sucked into the Berena fandom and don't plan on trying to escape anytime soon!)


End file.
